


Kindred

by dinbird



Category: Heroes (TV), Star Wars Legends: Last of The Jedi Series - Jude Watson
Genre: Crossover, Friendship, Gen, Platonic Female/Male Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 07:47:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11226489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinbird/pseuds/dinbird
Summary: “My parents are dead too, you know”, Molly said unexpectedly one day when she found Trever picking himself off the ground next to the bike shed.





	Kindred

**Author's Note:**

  * For [transportive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/transportive/gifts).



Maybe he first noticed her because she had such a _weird_ surname. Walker-Parkman-Suresh just seemed convoluted, almost like there was something wrong, or at the very least something going on that wasn’t all that typical for anyone else. Not that Trever cared or anything. She was just a girl in the year below him who was always drawing.

He didn’t get drawing. But whatever made her happy. It wasn’t his business.

His business was fighting people who had things to say about him. Like those kids who made fun of his hair.

“Hey Blue!” one of them called when Trever was just trying to keep his head down because he knew how the schoolyard hierarchy worked and he knew that if you don’t make yourself invisible you make yourself a target, “you got a clue? Haha! Woof!”

It was a stupid joke. It still made Trever angry. Just because he had to lie low didn’t mean he was going to change, and he told himself not to take the bait.

The three kids crowded in on him, laughing and barking like they were clever when they were just really, really annoying, but Trever still hurriedly ate the rest of his apple instead of saying anything.

Blue’s Clues was a show for _babies_. It was the least clever joke they could have come up with to torture him but it had still been following him for weeks now and it made him angry. He didn’t want to get into trouble. He told himself that over and over like a mantra because his school survival hinged on it.

He kept his eyes low and he grabbed his stuff and made to just leave, but then –

Then one of them reached out and ruffled his hair like he was a pet and he _snapped_.

Before he knew it the other boy was knocked over on the ground and he’d punched him in the face twice with all the fury he had over the stupid attempt to rile him up and his stupid miserable life and his mom had been a hero and nobody knew, nobody cared –

The other boy was trying to shove him off his friend and the girl who trailed around after them and who Trever thought was the one who had touched his hair was pulling at his hoodie but Trever just turned enough to pull at her clothes right back because he wanted her on the ground too, he was scratching and shouting something at her that he couldn’t even hear himself –

And then, “ _Stop_ it!”

It was called out with such a strange amount of finality that they all paused and looked up at Molly Walker-Parkman-Suresh who was glaring at the four of them.

“You”, she said, pointing at Trever’s three bullies, “go away or I’m going to _tell_.” Her oddly authoritative tone still carried despite how childish the words were, and the kids slowly got up, looking unsure. She turned to Trever. “You have to throw that apple core away. It’s littering.”

Trever stared.

But they all did as she asked.

 

* * *

 

 Trever kind of got into fights a lot after that. Not only because now he was being picked on because he had blue hair _and_ because a girl had to save him from it, but because he’d never really felt as good as he did when he finally let go and threw those punches. All that anger he was carrying inside was powerful and he could use it to make people keep away from him. He didn’t want anyone’s attention, he just wanted to be left alone, he wanted to skip school altogether and disappear back into the streets, but he didn’t because his foster parents would find out and and they’d track him down and they’d be disappointed in him and they’d sit him down and talk about _feelings_ and feelings were one thing he absolutely didn’t want to face.

Not aside the newfound anger, anyway. And he did want to face anyone who thought they could get to him. He wanted them to face his fists.

 

* * *

 

  “My parents are dead too, you know”, Molly said unexpectedly one day when she found Trever picking himself off the ground next to the bike shed. He hadn’t really talked to her since she’d broken up that first fight, even if he’d felt her eyes on him on and off. But he and the others had an unspoken agreement to keep their fighting to that particular lot behind the school where most couldn’t see and to keep school hours to painful bumping and shoving in the hallways rather than all-out brawls.

This was the first time she’d appeared to see part of that. Trever was ready to feel offended and paranoid, but she was leaning against her bike, so he grit his teeth and didn’t tell her to go away even though he really, really wanted her to, because he definitely didn’t want to deal with that topic.

She gave him a steady look like she was studying him even though he hadn’t answered and he didn’t plan on answering, and he set his jaw and after a long second tried a rough and entirely unfair, “so?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, not impressed. “So I know why you’re angry. I just think you’re doing this wrong.”

Trever wiped the back of his hand against his nose, which thankfully wasn’t bleeding too bad. He really didn’t want to talk about this with her. It was none of her business what he did or didn’t do.

He kicked a rock into the bike shed and didn’t look at her when he said, “is that why your name is so weird?”

She scoffed at him and got onto her bike, toes on the ground to balance it steady. “It’s not weird. It’s just a lot of them.”

He didn’t answer. She took off.

 

* * *

 

 When Trever finally decided to actually talk to Molly, he wasn’t sure where to look for her. Whether she’d meant to or not her comment about her own parents stuck in his mind and he realized that if that was true she might be the only person who could actually understand at least something, even if she understood in a really annoying way.

On that particular day he was feeling pretty shitty, anyway. Maybe that’s why he’d had that epiphany. Because Roan had had a Talk with him the night before and now he’d gotten into a fight again and he didn’t want to go home because Ferus would be there and he’d take one look at him and give him that look that Trever hated, and when he was stalling, he found himself thinking of Molly again.

He went to the bike shed first. Her bike was still there, but he didn’t even know what she liked or who her friends were, and it wasn’t like the school was all that small. And searching it made him feel like a fool. She was just some girl – why did he want to talk to her anyway? She was just getting in his way and judging him all the time.

But when he eventually spotted her through the school library window he saw what it was about her that probably did get it. She was resting her head heavily in one hand and staring at the open textbook without reading it. He knew that faraway look, he saw it all the time in class. But it was different, the way she was looking. Inwards. And she was idly, rhythmically, flipping the pencil she was holding back and forth between her fingers without looking at it either.

Nobody else was at her table. And Trever felt both a strange sadness and kinship with her all at once that he immediately tried to push down and away because he couldn’t need or want anyone, and he told himself to just go home already, but to his own surprise, he didn’t.

He walked into the library and up to her table and sat down across from her.

The way she looked up was slow, but when she recognized him she sat up straighter and gave him a slightly wide-eyed look. She didn’t say anything, and Trever started pulling at the sleeves of his hoodie to keep his hands occupied.

“Hi”, he said, hating how awkward he sounded.

“Hi”, she said back.

There was another long pause, and then she shifted again, eyes darting to his cheek.

“Who were you fighting?”

But the judgment Trever had expected from her tone wasn’t there, and he wondered if he’d been putting it there or if she wasn’t feeling well enough to bother right then.

“Chris.”

“He’s mean”, she supplied, easily enough, looking down at the book she wasn’t reading again. “I never liked him.”

“Me neither.” Trever pulled the sleeves over his fingers and bunched the fabric up inbetween them. “Are you doing homework?”

“Mm.”

It wasn’t really an answer. It was a neutral sound, but Trever understood it: she should be doing homework but she wasn’t. When he looked over at her notebook, most of it was doodles that had started in the margins and had spilled over the rest of the page.

He wondered again about that. What the point of drawing was. And if it made her happy, or if it was just something she did. Like how it had been weeks now, and he couldn’t honestly say anymore why he was fighting all the time, because the Blue jokes had stopped after a while. And since Molly never hung around him people had forgotten about her too.

When he thought about it, he wasn’t sure if she had friends at all. Maybe she was forgotten like him.

He was silent for another long while. Then he asked quietly, “what happened to your parents?”

Quietly, because he anticipated the way her eyes fixed on his in that slightly wide way again. And quietly because in asking her, he knew he had to let her ask him.

It struck him that he wasn’t sure how she knew his parents were dead at all.

She frowned, after the initial shock of the question. Tapped her pencil against the book. “A bad man killed them.”

Trever hadn’t really expected her to answer. And he hadn’t expected _that_ answer. He wondered how it had happened. If she’d been there or if she’d found out afterwards. If she’d been hurt. If she was as scared as he was sometimes of something unknown and abstract that got right into his chest.

He didn’t ask, though. He looked away, into the rest of the library were everyone else didn’t talk about dead family, and said, “bad people killed my parents too. And my brother.”

She kept her eyes on him. Eventually, his own gaze was drawn back to hers. When their eyes met, she did something very unexpected and smiled. Not really in a happy way, not like anything was funny, but there was still something there that Trever was missing and he was ready to get really angry about because why would you smile about something like that?

But she said, “I think we should be friends”, and he was stunned into agreeing.

 

* * *

 

 Being friends with Molly was a little weird at first but Trever quickly warmed up to it. They didn’t really see each other in school since they were in different grades and all but instead of picking fights after the bell Trever would hang around and wait for her, unless she was let out first and then he’d go find her. They wound up with the bike shed as an unofficial meeting spot and from there they’d just go places, Molly leading her bike and Trever on foot while they talked. Usually about school and about the kids there and about how teachers had no idea what it meant to be a kid anymore. Often they talked about dumb things like video games and tv shows and books and movies, and sometimes they just helped each other with homework.

Often, they climbed trees.

That was another thing they hadn’t really agreed to do but it quickly became _their_ thing, and they had a favourite spot. It was this cluster of beautiful old oaks that were good and sturdy but that weren’t too easy to climb, and once they’d mastered one tree, they’d move onto the next.

It was when they were nestled up there like birds and felt like nobody else could reach or hear them that they’d talk about the other stuff. The bad stuff. The stuff they had in common.

That was something else they hadn’t planned. It had just started that way, when they’d climbed a tree the first time and Molly’s cell phone rang and she talked for a little to one of her dads and promised him that she’d be home before dinner and that yes she knew where she was and yes she knew the way.

“They gave me a cell phone when I was ten”, she’d told him, unbidden, when she hung up. She wasn’t ten anymore, obviously. “I don’t think they wanted me to have that early or anything but Mohinder gets really caught up in his science and stuff and Matt’s a cop so sometimes he can’t make it home on time.”

That had caught Trever’s attention, that one of her new dads was a cop. “Aren’t you worried?” he’d asked, and Molly had shrugged a little.

“Yeah. Well, when I think about it. But I try not to. It’s okay.”

That had kicked off the first sharing. When they’d talked about their families – their new ones. They hadn’t been ready to talk about their old ones, not then. And Trever wasn’t anywhere near ready to think about Ferus and Roan as family, because he was still just their foster son. It didn’t have to mean anything. Everything was so temporary.

Molly, at least, was fully adopted. Maybe that’s why she could afford not to be so scared. Trever envied her that and at the same time he couldn’t imagine ever really wanting to be adopted, either. Probably Ferus and Roan would just die like everyone else.

They hadn’t met Molly or anything, even though it had been a few weeks. Trever hadn’t even told them her name for a long while. He didn’t really want to admit that he had made a friend. Not that he was ashamed of Molly or anything, because Molly was actually pretty cool, but because he wanted to keep them separate. Molly was _his_ friend, and she got things in a way Ferus and Roan didn’t, and he didn’t want that them to mix because maybe then nobody would understand anyone anymore.

They were pretty happy he wasn’t getting into fights anymore, though.

Today’s tree wasn’t really a big one, but the branches were far apart and twisted in a way that made it difficult to get very far, so they had to make a few risky jumps to get anywhere at all. They’d both fallen from this one and scraped their hands and knees, but that only served to make it personal. This tree was meant to be conquered.

Molly was better at finding the best way to climb, like where to go, but Trever was better at actually doing it because he’d climbed a lot of trees with Tike before Tike was killed, so he was carefully reaching and testing his weight as he tried to make it at least one branch higher than last time while Molly was sitting astride a lower branch and watching his progress and his technique.

“Try your other foot”, she said, stuff like that. “Wait, the other branch. Now go left.”

 

* * *

 

[text: 11:34] Did you see the nw school mascot? lol it’s so dumb

[text: 11:41] chipmunks aren’t scary!! Haha what were they thinking

 

[text: 13:03] I can’t make it today sorry

[text: 13:07] ok are you ok?

[text: 13:25] Yeah just tired and hw

 

[text: 17:19] img45620.jpg lol

[text: 17:21] hahaha!!!! I love doge

[text: 17:29] ru feeling better?

[text 17:32] Yeah thanks :)

 

* * *

 

  They usually left their backpacks at the bottom of the trees along with Molly’s bike when they climbed, but this time Molly had insisted on climbing up with hers even though it slowed her down and made it more difficult. They’d managed to get as close to the top as they could get with that particular oak after four days, and now they were enjoying their victory for a little while before they picked a new one. Trever hadn’t really asked about the backpack but when Molly zipped it open and hauled out her sketchpad, it wasn’t like he needed to.

She leaned back against the tree trunk and precariously lifted one leg up to balance the pad against her thigh, and she started drawing. Trever was sitting on a different branch but turned so he was facing her, and he couldn’t see what she was drawing.

It was usual stuff most of the time, he supposed, what he’d seen of her art. She drew animals and people and sometimes she drew nature but not usually, but sometimes … he’d seen some stuff in her sketches that he hadn’t really wanted to ask about before. Dark shapes and eyes and many, many angry splotches of red.

“What’re you drawing?” he asked out of curiosity, picking up his cell phone from his pocket to fiddle with while she did that, careful not to drop it.

“The view is pretty nice here. I noticed it last time.”

“Do all people who draw think about that stuff?”

She shot him an amused look. “Maybe you should try drawing and see.”

He grinned at her and shook his head. “Nah. Why do you draw so much, anyway?”

She pursed her lips in that way he knew meant she was thinking, and he watched her as she kept the pencil moving even while she considered the question. She usually drew in coloured pencils, he’d noticed. She was using yellow right then.

“I don’t know. I just always liked it. It’s nice.”

He probably wouldn’t have brought this up before, but … they were in their tree. So he hesitated, and then he asked, “but you draw really bad stuff sometimes.”

She paused, bit her lip. Trever wasn’t sure if he’d crossed a line or not, but he waited. That was something he’d learned from her, too: to wait. Because sometimes her answers came slowly. Like she was always, always thinking.

Other times they came really quick and rapid, and that’s when they had the most fun. But this wasn’t about fun. Their trees weren’t about fun.

She glanced at him. “I’ve seen really bad stuff.”

Trever could feel the way it all kind of shifted. It was a nice day, and the sun was shining and it was warm and pleasant, but he still felt ice in his stomach at the way she said that.

“Like the man who … who killed your parents?” he asked, voice low.

She nodded. Trever didn’t know what to say, but he didn’t really have to say anything, because she flipped her sketchpad over and flipped back a few pages and then she turned it so he could see, and it was a drawing of a man with really dark eyes and a sinister smile and Trever went very still.

“Is that him?”

“I used to call him the Boogeyman”, she said in a way that was calm, but he could hear that there was a lot more to it than that: that there was still fear and anger and hurt. “He tried to kill me too. Not right then. But the day after. When the police had me. And then again after a few months. He tried to kill my new dads too.”

Trever was shocked. He stared at her, but she wasn’t looking at him. She’d turned the pad back to herself and she was looking into the eyes she’d drawn with a frown.

Suddenly, her mortality was made as achingly obvious as Ferus and Roan’s and Tike’s and Trever’s parents. He felt it so clearly, how he didn’t want to lose her. She was his friend.

After a moment, she closed the sketchbook almost decisively, and she looked over at Trever again, and like she could read his mind she said, “he’s dead now.” It was with such finality and a darkness that for a single second, Trever was scared of her.

After that, he was just relieved. He let out a sigh. “Why … why did he kill them, anyway?”

The way she was looking at him intensified. “It’s a secret. I’m going to tell you because you’re my friend but you have to promise you don’t tell anyone. Okay?”

He nodded.

Molly gnawed on her lip again before she answered. “My dad could do things. He had an ability. Not like a normal one. He could touch things, and they would freeze. Sometimes he made it snow inside. And … and the Boogeyman killed him to get his power.”

She looked so unsure and yet so ready to be fierce, like she was absolutely sure Trever wouldn’t believe her and she’d have to prove it or she’d have to yell at him or anything, but Trever just felt it all … oddly click into place.

He gave her a small smile, and she looked really confused at that, but he said, “uh, Ferus can do stuff too. Not like ice. But he can do things with his mind.”

The way she relaxed and lit up all at once was almost a little funny. “Really? Can he read minds? Like Matt?”

“No, it’s not like- Matt can read _minds_?”

“Yeah, and sometimes it’s really annoying when he does it by accident but he’s promised --”

“He reads minds by _accident_?”

And then Molly was laughing, eyes bright all of a sudden instead of the too-old darkness that didn’t suit her at all, and she swung her legs in the air in a way that made her look a little younger than thirteen and that made Trever feel really good, because this felt real. Like trust.

“Yeah! It was worse before, but he’s gotten a lot better. And guess what? I can find people.” She grinned at him and leaned forward a little, sharing this secret that was hers, that she must have kept for a long long time. “I can think about anyone, and I know where they are. Anywhere in the world.”

 

* * *

 

 “Hey”, Trever said, unlocking his new bike from where he’d chained it to, “so, like, it’s my birthday next week. Do you want to come over or anything?”

Molly grinned at him as she got onto her own. “Yeah, sure.”

 

* * *

 

[text: 12:58] So if you can find ppl does t mean you can find things?

[text: 13:01] What like keys and stuff?

[text: 13:02] Funny you say that……

[text: 13:05] They’re behind the tv u idiot haha what are they doing there

[text: 13:07] no comment

 

* * *

 

 It wasn’t a big birthday celebration or anything, which in some ways suited Trever fine and in others cut a little deeply because back before his family had died they’d had all kinds of different birthday rituals and Ferus and Roan didn’t know any of them. Not that it was their fault. And they’d asked him what he wanted to do and he was the one who had shrugged and said it didn’t really matter.

He was happy they hadn’t accepted that answer. In the end, he was more excited than he’d admit out loud, because Ferus and Roan had eventually settled on gifts in the morning, a trip to the science museum which had a new exhibition, all the ice cream and junk food he could want, and then Molly would come over for dinner and they’d go to the movies.

When they’d asked if he wanted to invite anyone or anything like that, or even if he wanted to have a party, Molly was the only one Trever could really think of. So when he’d brought her up, he could have sworn there was something almost relieved about his foster parents, like they’d been worried he wouldn’t offer up a name at all.

He’d texted her if she was up to go to the movies or something and she was wholly enthusiastic about it, and she was the one who’d texted back suggesting what if she stayed over, that could be fun?, and Trever had thought it sounded great and so had everyone else. Even Matt, the supposedly overprotective one. There were a few coordinating phone calls between the adults but Trever didn’t really care because everyone was up for it and that was that.

And even though he spent a lot of time thinking about his parents and his brother and even though he didn’t sleep well the previous night, his birthday – well the day before his birthday technically, but nobody wanted to do all that stuff on a _Sunday_ – his birthday was really nice. And it had a lot of best parts.

One of the best parts was getting to try an experiment at the exhibition and one of the staff complimenting him on his quick understanding of physics and chemistry. Another was making Ferus laugh so suddenly he snorted Coke right through his nose and Roan high-fiving him for it.

And another was joking with Molly about the movie when they were biking back home, and still laughing when they were making her a bed on the floor of his room, and just having a friend.

 

* * *

 

 He woke up in a cold sweat to Molly whispering frantically at him to wake up, wake _up_. Trever twitched back from her and bumped his shoulder against the wall with how quickly he sat up, feeling embarrassed and tense and fearful all at once, because he’d been dreaming again and he hated it, that he could have such a good day and he could still have it ruined by nightmares like he was a little kid …

Molly sat down on his bed by his knees and he couldn’t really see her face in the darkness, but he didn’t actually want to, anyway.

“Was it about your family?” she asked quietly, but in such a blunt way it caught him off guard. He’d wanted to pretend it all away. Like this didn’t happen to him sometimes. Like he wasn’t that scared or hurt all the time even when he didn’t want to think about it.

“Yeah”, he admitted, reluctantly.

“I thought so. I dream about mine too.”

Right. He felt stupid for a moment. Of course she did. And she probably had way worse dreams than he did, so she probably thought he should toughen up or … or maybe she pitied him or something – he really, really wished this wouldn’t have happened. Not then. Not in front of his only friend.

But she surprised him when she just sat there, knees pulled up and arms around them, looking at him steadily. Ferus did that sometimes, Trever thought. Waited him out. But he knew that game, and he didn’t want to fall for it. So he looked away and he said nothing.

The ticking of the clock on his wall grew louder in the silence. Maybe it bothered her, or maybe she just thought she’d given him enough time, because Molly spoke up again: “do you want a hug?”

Trever looked back at her, again not really able to read her expression, again feeling all kinds of embarrassed and ashamed and not quite identifying why. “What?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes it helps. It’s nice. You could try it, at least.”

Trever shook his head. “No, it’s weird. It’s fine. Let’s just go back to sleep or something.”

Molly rolled his eyes. He couldn’t see her face properly but he _knew_ she rolled her eyes. “Or something”, she mimicked, but did put her feet back on the floor. “Like a hug.”

Trever didn’t say anything to that, but Molly didn’t seem to want his actual permission anyway, because when she stood she took a step closer to him and leaned over and just hugged him around the shoulders and stayed there.

He didn’t really know what to do with that. He tensed up and relaxed all at once. Like part of him was really on board with the whole idea and another part of him wanted to reject that it was happening at all.

But she didn’t go away, just kind of patiently hugged him even though it must have been a really awkward angle, and after a little while of that … he let out a sigh and found himself in it.

And it was nice. It did help.

When she could tell he’d relaxed properly, not that halfway way from the start, she let go of him and stood up straight.

“Told you”, she said simply, like she couldn’t resist getting the last word in.

Trever stuck his tongue out at her. She didn’t see it because it was too dark though.

They didn’t say anything more than that when they got back to sleep, but somehow, it really wasn’t that awkward.

 

* * *

 

 “Found you”, she said in sing-song, tapping him on the shoulder. She’d grown pretty liberal with little jokes like that ever since she’d told him what he could do. He thought that was probably a good thing. Like she was allowing herself to be … herself, a little more.

 

* * *

 

[text: 10:43] I got a b+ in chemistry!!!!

[text: 10:48] yesss gj!

[text: 10:52] thanks for helping me!! :)

 

* * *

 

 When Christmas rolled around, Trever got Molly a new set of coloured pencils from a brand he knew she had been eyeing, a sketchbook, and a sticker pad to decorate it with. He felt a little ridiculous getting that stuff, but he knew she’d like them, and that made it worth it.

She got him a really cool book about bombs through history, and a small set of firecrackers. They exchanged gifts on the last day of school and then they hugged, because ever since she’d hugged him that night, they’d started doing that. Molly really liked hugging. Trever was still warming up to it, but it made him happy when she laughed and almost tackled him into a hug with her enthusiasm.

They were both going away over break but they made a solemn promise to tell each other all about their adventures or lack thereof when they came back.

 

* * *

 

 “You’re on my list, you know”, Molly said a little softly, playing with her gloves in her hands. It was tricky to climb a tree with winter clothes because you really couldn’t feel that well where you were going, and your grip absolutely sucked with thick winter gloves on, but they’d still stubbornly climbed a tree because that’s what they did.

One of the easier ones. But still.

“What list?” Trever asked, looking up at her from the somewhat lower branch he was sitting on.

“My finding people list. Um …” she paused, hesitated a moment; her gaze was on the horizon, on the sun that was setting way too quickly because it was still winter, so the sky was tainted red. “Before I go to sleep every night. There are a few people I look for in my mind. Just so I know they’re safe. And that nothing’s happened to them.”

“Oh.”

He didn’t know what else to say to that, not at first. He felt touched, a little confused … that was, until he realized that if he could do what she could do, he probably would do exactly that.

Because they had similar fears, didn’t they?

“Is it because you’re scared?”

She hesitated again, but she looked back at him when she nodded. “I guess. I try not to be afraid anymore. But sometimes people die, or they disappear, and then they’re not anywhere.”

That sounded familiar. It was an emotional recognition. The knowledge of how quickly your life could change just because someone decided to change it.

Trever said, “it’s really hard not to be scared, though.”

Molly gave him a smile that was way too wry for someone who was only a kid. “Yeah.”

He thought about his parents and about his brother and he imagined Molly’s own parents and how they were all dead and gone. He couldn’t imagine Molly being gone. And couldn’t imagine Ferus or Roan, either. But he knew better than to think they’d never go away. That was the dangerous part: taking it for granted.

He wouldn’t do that.

But he was realizing that he could still appreciate that they were there now.

He said, “thanks for putting me on your list.”

She laughed, just a little. And then she said back, “you’re my best friend.”

“You’re mine too.”


End file.
